Contempt renzo lucia boo.., p.10
Contempt (Renzo + Lucia Book 3), page 10
Not a lie.
Had he just come to New York because that’s where Kelly told him Lucia had gone? Because if so, that was a little creepy.
Christian smiled, and waved a hand. Finally, he let go of her hand, too, and she took the chance to hide her hand under the table where she wiped off the feeling of his lips on her knuckles against the skirt of her spring dress.
“Business,” he said. “The deal I was trying to make with someone in Cali—separate from the art print I brought along with me—almost fell through, and I figured coming right to his home territory might … well, change things. Or that’s my hope.”
Huh.
“And what is your business?” Lucia asked.
Christian shrugged. “A little of this, and a little of that. I import and export, essentially. Someone needs something specific, and I have the means to get it to them.”
She didn’t think he was telling her the entire truth considering the sly smile he sported, but Lucia opted not to press. She had learned over her life not to ask too many questions about someone’s business because like her family … well, it might not be all legal. She didn’t need the details.
“But lucky me,” Christian said, “because I get to see you again. I would like to do that more often, Lucia. See you, I mean.”
She blinked.
Wow.
That was … forward.
She gave him points for his confidence and arrogance, anyway. Not that it was going to make a difference to the news she was about to deliver to him.
“Not even beating around the bush, huh?” Lucia asked, half joking.
Christian flashed her with a another charming smile, and even tossed in a wink for good measure. For another woman, that alone might have been more than enough to have her agreeing to whatever he wanted. Truth was, this man wasn’t bad looking. He didn’t give her a bad vibe, either. He clearly had wealth, status, and class.
Every woman’s dream.
Just not hers.
“Listen,” Lucia started to say, hoping to let him down easy, “it’s not the right time for me to be … dating.”
Yeah, that sounded okay.
Mostly.
Christian’s smile didn’t falter at all. “Why not, bella donna?”
“For a lot of reasons.”
And none that she wanted to share.
“Not even for dinner?” he asked. “A drink, maybe? Or … what if, as friends, or even … hmm, I happen to know a new gallery that’s opening, and there’s a painting I have interest in. Perhaps you could accompany me to it, and let me know what you think of it and if it’s worth the price they’re asking. Then, it’s all business—nothing else to it, sì?”
Lucia could have agreed to that, if only to appease his request and get him off her back. The thing was, she seriously suspected that if she said yes to his offer, then he wasn’t going to get the hint that she wasn’t interested.
“Sorry,” Lucia said, “I can’t. I’m a little busy with family stuff while I’m here, that’s all.”
“Shame.” Christian’s smile softened. “Could I at least give you my number? In case you change your mind—not that I expect you to, of course.”
“I—”
Quickly, he leaned over the table, and his hand came up to brush the loose waves of her hair over her shoulder. It was an easy touch—soft, and gentle. “You don’t have to call, mia cara. It’s a … just in case, kind of thing.”
Fine.
“Sure,” Lucia said, picking up her screen to unlock it.
Despite that, Christian didn’t move. He didn’t lean back to give her some space. No, he stayed incredibly close, and in fact, continued tucking her hair behind her ear. He had just taken the unlocked phone from her hands when a form over his shoulder caught her eye.
She blinked.
Breathed.
Her heart ached from the sight of the man walking toward them. Leather jacket on, dark eyes blazing with fire, and his gorgeous face searing into her memory. The reaction her body felt at seeing him was visceral, and raw.
Renzo’s stride was not quite the same as Christian’s as he approached Lucia’s table. Instead of easy, smooth steps, his were firm and determined. He looked ready to tear something apart, but the only thing he was looking at happened to be her.
She sucked in a quick breath.
It ached.
It didn’t feel like enough, honestly.
So many questions ran through her mind at the sight of Renzo. She had a bunch of shit right on the tip of her tongue—a breakdown was heavy in the back of her mind. He was too close, and yet, not nearly close enough.
This close, she was able to get a better look at him. He wasn’t the same—the changes were small, but they were there. His hair was a little shorter. His gaze, a bit colder. Gone was some of the softer lines on his face that had given him his youthful appearance the last time they had been together, and in its place were the rough, hard lines of a man. The nose ring was new, too, but fuck … she liked it. A lot like the ink peeking out on his hand, and his throat.
New things for her to discover, maybe.
Jesus.
She went there quickly.
Finally, Christian seemed to notice Lucia’s distraction as he went to hand the phone back over. It took one glance over his shoulder for him to see Renzo, but it was too late for him to say anything. Renzo’s angry expression turned into something softer, and sweeter. He even smiled.
Showing off his white teeth, he winked at Lucia, and bent down to sling an arm over her shoulder, and kiss her right on the top of her head.
The action was familiar.
God.
He still smelled the same.
Leather, musk, and man.
“Hey, babe, sorry I’m late,” he murmured against her hair. “We should head out of here, yeah? Don’t want to be late.”
Late for what?
What was he talking about?
Renzo didn’t give Lucia the chance to ask those things before he helped her up from the table, and gave Christian a grin. “Sorry to cut this short—next time, maybe? I’m Ren, by the way.”
Christian didn’t miss a beat. “Christian.”
Lucia was still wondering what just happened.
• • •
“What are you doing?” Lucia hissed as she tried to yank her arm from Renzo’s firm grasp. He held tight even as he led her out of the hotel. She didn’t actually want him to let her go—she liked the way his fingers felt curving around her arm, and keeping her close to him. But that was the problem … it left her confused and sad. “Let me—”
“Is that your guy?” he asked.
Lucia’s brow dipped as she looked the way he pointed. At the car waiting just beyond the front doors of the hotel, and the man standing next to the back passenger door. “How did you know that was my driver? Are you following me?”
Renzo glanced down at her, and arched a brow. “He’s driving a black car, is wearing a suit, and looked like he might come at me as soon as I dragged you out of the front doors. That all spells Marcello enforcer to me. No, I’m not fucking following you.”
But he wanted to.
She could hear it in his voice.
Lucia didn’t know what to think of that.
She glanced back at the man waiting by the car, and nodded. “Yeah, that’s my car.”
“Good, get in.” He didn’t exactly give her the chance to argue. Before she knew what happened, he was pushing her into the backseat, and leaning in the door. “Just smile, okay?”
“I don’t understand why you just came up like that and—”
“I don’t know what his angle is,” Renzo uttered.
“Who, Christian?”
Renzo nodded. “Yeah, him.”
“He’s a businessman from Italy. I met him at the gallery where I work.”
The laugh that came out of Renzo’s mouth could only be described as bitter. Nothing else would fit the bill. It kind of shocked Lucia how harsh it sounded, and yet, the contrast of how good he looked doing it was bad for her insides.
So fucking bad.
His gaze leveled on her again, quieting her instantly. “Christian Savino is a hell of a lot more than just a businessman from Italy, and that’s only a portion of my problem right now.”
He didn’t let her say anything else before he closed the car door. She watched, confused, as he said a couple of quick words to the enforcer outside of the car before rounding the back, and sliding in the other side.
The driver got in, too.
Soon, they were on the road.
All the while, Lucia glanced back and forth between the window, and Renzo beside her. Oh, sure, he kept a distance between them. A good two feet on the seat, but still … she could feel his warmth, and smell him. He was too close, and yet, not nearly close enough. All of those emotions she had been suppressing suddenly felt like rushing right back to the surface all over again.
Holy hell.
She really was a complete mess.
“Where have you been?” she asked him.
Renzo glanced over at her. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Why haven’t you answered me back? Why haven’t you called me? Did you ever even fucking look for me, Ren? How long have you been out? Are you just … off living your life without even giving a second thought about me? Is that what you’re doing now?”
Something darkened his gaze.
Pain, maybe?
Lucia didn’t know.
“What—”
“I have thought about you every single day. Have you ever thought about me?”
Renzo blinked.
In a second—a breath—he was across the seat, and right in front of her. Those hands of his grabbed tight to her jaw, and he pulled her in. The kiss burned, but oh, it felt so fucking good, too. The way his lips melded against hers was hard enough to bruise. The dance was familiar, though. As was the taste of him, and the way every single part of him seemed to surround her, and the way the rest of the world disappeared. His tongue struck out against the seam of her lips, and she couldn’t help but open up just to get a taste of him.
Yeah, all these years …
It still felt like yesterday.
It was crazy.
So good.
And bad, too.
All too soon, Renzo pulled away, and let out a shuddering exhale though he stayed close to her. Close enough that his lips grazed hers as he murmured, “I have waited five fucking years to do that again.”
A tear escaped, then.
Lucia didn’t wipe it away.
“I can’t explain …” Renzo shook his head. “Ask your father, Lucia. Ask him about the deal.”
She blinked. “Okay.”
What else could she say?
“To the hospital, Miss?” the enforcer asked from the front of the car.
Lucia cleared her throat as Renzo gave her a bit of room, and she finally felt like she could breathe again. “Yeah, thanks.”
She suspected the enforcer might have known about the fact her father was sick, as he was usually the one taking her to the hospital. So, she didn’t feel like she had to watch her tongue around him.
Renzo gave her a look. “You’re not sick, are you?”
It was second nature … just a slip of the tongue. “My dad—cancer.”
“I’m sorry.”
She frowned. “Yeah, me too.”
But probably for entirely different reasons.
• • •
“Daddy?”
Lucian looked up from where the nurse was readying his port to take the line, and smiled at Lucia standing in the doorway of the hospital room. “Lucia, come sit with me, sweetheart.”
She stayed where she was for now.
Her father didn’t miss it.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
She gave the nurse a look, and her father seemed to understand. It was only when the nurse had finished her work, and the treatment had started that they were left alone to their peace and privacy. Once the door was closed, Lucia came to sit beside her father. She could feel him watching her, but she could only stare at her hands in her lap.
She felt too much.
She thought too much.
It was all way too much.
Renzo had walked her into the hospital, but then he said he had to go. He didn’t explain anything else, or say when he might be back. He just left, and she was left more confused and hurt than ever.
She didn’t want to feel like this.
“Did you know Renzo’s back?” she asked, giving her father a look from the side. He said nothing, but maybe that was how she knew that yes, her father was aware. Lucian was quick to deny when he didn’t know something—he wouldn’t bother if he had to lie about it. “You know, I always wondered what happened to him because … he just disappeared after he was transferred out of Rikers, and removed from the state’s custody for his other set of charges. It was like he didn’t exist—it was all gone.”
Lucian still stayed quiet.
Lucia didn’t mind.
“But he’s back, and it seems like he’s probably been somewhere for a while. He said … I should ask you, Daddy. Something about a deal, I guess.”
Her father cleared his throat. “Did he now?”
“Yes. You don’t sound surprised.”
“That he found his way back to you? No. That he couldn’t stay away? No.” Lucian smiled when Lucia’s head snapped up, and her gaze slammed into his. “Things always find a way—life has taught me that.”
She had so many questions.
None of them came out, though.
“Renzo is not the same as he used to be,” her father said, “and that’s partly my fault. That deal he mentioned … it has to do with people in Vegas and something that happened while you two were there five years ago. Someone died, Lucia, and he had to answer for it.”
She blinked, realizing …
“Do you mean Tucker?”
Her dad tipped his head to the side, saying nothing.
“Daddy, that wasn’t Ren—”
“I know,” Lucian murmured. “But that changed nothing between him and I … not to mention, them. The young man who died was involved in something bigger than what it probably looked like, and someone had to pay for that death. A deal was made between me, Renzo, and the organization. A … company called The League.”
“What is The League?”
Lucian laughed weakly. “That’s not as easy to answer, but I guess you could say they train people to do a great many things.”
That told her nothing.
“Like what?”
“Bad things; good things,” Lucian replied. “I’m not sure you would understand if I did attempt to—”
“Just say it.”
Lucian sighed. “An easy description would be that they train assassins, but it’s not as simple as that. Many of their members have a very specialized set of skills—they’re contracted out to people in four- or five-year increments, if that’s what they want to do.”
Lucia stilled. “A what?”
“You heard what I said,” her father returned quietly. “In his case—Renzo’s—he couldn’t choose to be contracted out for a term. He had to pay back a debt, so his contract was going to happen regardless. That was the deal. Five years of his life given to The League, and he had to follow their rules and demands during that time. I believe, from what I know, that one of those things was for him to stay away from here, and … well, you, too.”
Jesus Christ.
Was this real life?
“I have more questions,” Lucia admitted.
Lucian nodded. “Later, maybe? I’m feeling nauseous.”
Yeah, chemo was a bitch like that.
They didn’t get a later to talk about it. Just as her father was finishing his chemo treatment, and the nurse had come in to remove the port, two men darkened the doorway of the hospital room. She saw them first, and felt the pain that radiated from both of her uncles.
Giovanni.
Dante.
“Lucian,” Gio said quietly.
Yet, firmly.
Lucia saw her father’s back stiffen as he was reaching for his phone on the table next to the chair he used to sit in when he was getting his treatments. He straightened a hell of a lot slower than she had ever seen him do before, and turned around even slower to face his brothers where they stood in the doorway.
For a long time, nobody spoke.
They just … stared.
“Why?” Dante asked finally, breaking the silence. “Why, Lucian?”
Her father’s secret was out.
“How did you learn?” Lucian asked his brother.
Dante’s gaze darted to Lucia, and then went back to her father. “The driver for your daughter—he heard her say you were sick, and … word came around.”
“You mean, he ran right to you.”
“Yeah, well,” Dante countered, shrugging.
Gio laughed bleakly. “It should have been you. You should have been the one to tell us.”
“I have cancer,” her father snapped. “I don’t owe anyone anything.”
“Daddy,” Lucia whispered, “be nice.”
Chemo made him pissed, sometimes. Like that bad mood only got worse, but she understood. Her uncles might not, though.
Lucian looked her way, and then back to his brothers. “I was trying … to handle it.”
“Alone, though?” Gio asked. “We could have—”
“What?” Lucian asked, though Lucia heard it in his tone. The pain—the ache. He was tired, and he didn’t want to do this today. “What, Gio, watch me get sick? Watch them pump poison into me so that it can kill another kind of poison? Watch me struggle to eat because it makes me want to puke? Watch me take twenty minutes to crawl into bed because I’m fucking exhausted? What do you want to help me with?”
“All of it,” Dante said, softer than she had ever heard her uncle speak. “We would help for all of it, Lucian, whether you want us to see it or not.”
Lucia saw the fight leave her father, then. Sure, she had more things to ask him, especially about Renzo, but it could and would wait for another day. They had other things—more important things—to handle right now.
